Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-09-04
and lifting. his lantern and his trusty

Arrived at the door OF the clock
room, he opened il softly aud threw
the light into the interior empty, alb
solutely-not q creature to be seen.
Above him, also, everything was 81
lent--the rustling had ceased.
"What was il he had heard up
there He would see." And opening
the second door aud clearing with the
same precautions the remainder of the
stairs he found himself upon the plat
form, deserted like the rest. Leaning
from the balustrade Cloquet looked be-
low. The night birds, for some reason
greatly agitated, whirled aud circlej
about the sides Of the steeple others,
paralyzed with fright, nestled in the
branches OF the apple-tree, seeming to
chatter and consult how best to regain
their holes. The village and the fields
lay at his feet bathed in blush sha-
dow OF infinite softness, and beyond
these thin silver crescent showed it.
self above the sea, kindling upon its
sullen gray a train of glittcrng scintil-
lations.
The worthy sexton, however, was not
thinking of admiring the beauties of
the night, but scanned with eager eyes
the desolate space extending between
church and village. Not a soul ap.
peared it would be better to descend
again and remain, as he had intended,
at the foot Of the stairs.
Once more silence had established it.
self in the interior OF that old square
tower but IN passing by the bells, so
long his friends, Cloquet was unable to
repress a shudder the prediction of
Mother Benoit-a most unpleasant one,
by the way-had suddenly returned to
his mind.
"If they had only talked to me
alone" said he. "and not ha8 played
me such trick and he put out his
hand as if to touch and caress them.
But his arms dropped half wayne
dared not touch them-an inexplicable
uneasiness had seized upon him and
slow moisture gathered upon his brow.
He hurried on and gained the cham
Der of the clock there, between the
two doors he was more tranquil.
Nevertheless the deathly silence
weighed upon him, bewould have given
great deal to have heard peasant
pass by the church whistling, or the
old machinery going, the tick-tack OF
the pendulum would have kept him
company. But no, it was dead, dead
and silent as Father Benoit Devil
take her. why had Mother Benoit
made such a prediction Pass the
night thereh wouldn't, nor at the foot
OF the stairs, either. unless some one
came soon and grumbling to himself
he rose to his feet. pushed open the
lower door, carelessly closed it behind
him, and resumed his way. As he
placed bis foot on the step, however,
something struck him on the back, the
lantern fell from his hand, ratified
noisily to the bottom of the steps, and
went out. 1t was the door that he
thought he had securely latched, the
door of the clock-room that had swung
against him and caused all this commo-
| ton.
"Ah, but it was stupid, very stupid"
all the same, in the pitchy darkness of
the tower His brain became more
and more bewildered, and by
chance lifting his eyes to the
side from whence the blow had
come, he saw about him two lumi-
nous eye-balls menacingly glaring at
him. This was too much the blow,
then, was not natural, and tumbling
rather than descending the steps Clo-
quet, on his knees at the bottom, began
to grovel for the door.
"Mother of God !" he shrieke1, as
suddenly, high up in the air above
him. there was a mournful sound-one
of the bells had spoken through the
silence of the night-the others an
swering it.
1t was the knell, the funeral knell,
that in drunken frenzy he had
changed to a carol. "Mercy. Benoit,
mercy !" his voice stopped in his
throat-his legs refused to bear him,
and as he crouched against the wall, a
glacial sweat pouring from his body,
his brain rafting like walnut in its
shell, something fell upon his Shout
ders, breath passed across his face,
and the struggle began-a desperate
struggle with savage, unseen, I'M
known assailant. The belfry was filled
with a lurid light. thousand devils
sung in his ears-a moment more and
he dropped in heap.
1t was thus they found him in the
morning, cold and stiff. Terror, added
to the cider he had drunk, had devel-
ored congestion from which he had
died; his rigid hands, slashed to the
bone by bites and the scratches of claws,
tightly clasped about the corpse OF his
cat.
They supposed that the animal, after
the manner OF all cats prowling for
daily food, had gone to surprise the
owls that haunted the belfry, and in
passing tie bells had touched them,
perhaps climbed by the cords to the
platform above, thereby producing that
nocturnal ringing until then inexplica-
bic.
The unfortunate Cloquet on the fol-
lowing day was carried to the cemetery
and laid to rest by the side of his old
friend, Benoit. At the close of the
ceremony Mother Benoit, always grave
and still rancorous, murmured to her
neighbors
"That which has happened to him
il was that predicted 1t Those who
respect not Death, Death will not be
merciiul to them